The Strange Habits of George Weasley
by FrednGeorgeFanGirl
Summary: A look into the habits of George Weasley after the death of his twin brother and the way their relationship had been. Just some thoughts of what I believe to be true about the twins.


George was sleeping.

He was sleeping better than he had in over two weeks since he lost the person he was used to sleeping next to. He couldn't sleep without Fred. He didn't even realize that was his problem. The sound of Fred's rhythmic, slow breathing and tossing from side to side in his sleep was what subconsciously lulled George to sleep each night. He didn't realize as he tried to sleep each night since Fred's death, that the reason for his insomnia was not the heart wrenching pain that felt like a dozen bricks being dropped into the pit of his stomach each time he realized that Fred wasn't sleeping in the bed next to his and not the sound of his own screams that he would let out periodically with his face burrowing into his pillow, it was the silence and lack of Fred's sleep that George was missing. It had been Fred's pillow that George now slept on, stolen from Fred's bed, still unmade from when the Weasleys had relocated from the Burrow to their Aunt Muriel's. George clung to it, breathing in deeply and slowly, trying to memorize Fred's smell, which he assumed was similar to his own. Still, it reminded George of Fred. It was a mixture of fresh linen, a masculine soap that smelled like spice, and what George thought might be gunpowder. It was the smell that he needed right now, his own form of amortentia, and it was what he couldn't have anymore. He dreaded the time that Fred's pillow no longer smelled of him, then he would really be gone. This at least, was proof that Fred had really lived and that his fully alive head had rested upon this pillow. Maybe he had even drooled on it.

George was finally asleep this night however, because of a sleeping potion. Molly had forced him to take it when she had found him underneath the covers on Fred's bed, not asleep, not doing anything at all. Simply staring with glazed eyes that had the circles and dark shadows that indicated lack of sleep. When he woke up, ten hours later, he forgot for a moment, that Fred was not there. Out of force of habit, George glanced over to Fred's side of the room. The sheets on Fred's bed were bunched up together that looked like someone could have been sleeping underneath. Fred often slept like that, with his sheets every which way and he either laying on his stomach on top of them, one or both feet hanging off the side of the bed, or curled up with the sheets all the way to his head, making him look hidden. George threw a pillow at Fred like they usually did to whoever was still sleeping when one of them woke up, and "Fred" just collapsed into a pile of sheets that was now flat and revealing that no human occupied the bed. George let out a scream into his pillow.

After another week or two, being in that room became too difficult. There were too many memories and too many reminders that Fred had been there not so long ago, and if only things might have been a little different, he might be there now. Fred and George probably wouldn't have been at the Burrow at all. They would have returned to their shop, something George hadn't been trusted to do by his family yet. Instead George began sleeping on the sofa in the sitting room, or with Ron when he wasn't staying at Grimmauld Place with Harry. George mentioned once that he might like to go to Grimmauld Place and stay over with Ron and Harry to get away from the Burrow and get his mind off things, an idea which Ron and Harry were accepting of, but his parents had forbidden it. "You're not well," they said. "Stay here for a while longer". George felt like he was five again. He had already lost his brother and best friend. Did he really have to lose his adulthood, his independence, let alone his dignity?

Eventually, his parents accepted the fact that they could not keep George from reopening his business. Fred would not have wanted it to go down the toilet, of course. It was extremely hard for George to gain the energy and motivation required to run the shop and keep up with new products and ideas, but he knew he had to do it for Fred. He would not let their dream die with Fred. Ron also agreed to help for the next year or so. Harry underwent the beginning stages aurora training, something he planned to do himself in time and Hermione had gone back to school, so Ron was eager to have something to do other than sit at the Burrow which was becoming increasingly depressing with each family member breaking down in turns and with enduring the strange silence that Fred's absence brought. It was also better than hanging out at Grimmauld Place with Harry which was not much better with the portrait of Sirius's mum yelling at them each day.

George was glad to have someone there, too. Sometimes Ron would stay over at the flat because they had been working late or had to be up early. It comforted George when he had someone to sleep beside him, even if that someone wasn't Fred. Sometimes he would wake up in the middle of the night and pretend Ron was Fred, sometimes speaking to him. He'd say random thoughts that he had like, "Hey Fred, I think that the new fireworks box should come in green, not red." Ron ignored these comments, knowing that George would come to his senses a few minutes later. Neither of them mentioned these moments.

When George had the flat to himself however, George couldn't sleep again. He started having his mother send over sleeping potions regularly something that she warned him was not a good idea to rely on. It made sleep very unpredictable. Sometimes George would wake up hours early and not be able to fall back asleep so he would go down to the shop and work on new products until Ron came. Ron never asked why he was up so early and had already gotten so much accomplished. Other times, George would oversleep and would wake up at a strange time only to go downstairs and see the shop already opened and full of customers. Ron never complained about having to run it by himself either.

George tried quitting the sleeping potions cold turkey. Some nights he relied on alcohol instead. Some nights he wandered around the flat going from the living room, kitchen, and the bedroom that he and Fred had shared in a circle, over and over. George couldn't sleep without him. It's not as though he and Fred had slept in the same room every single night. They would often have girls over and one twin would get the bedroom while the other slept on the couch or vise versa. Sometimes one would crash at a friend's place after having gone out the night before, or one would sleep at the Burrow or Grimmauld if the other was entertaining a girl. Now that George thought about it, he did always have a little trouble sleeping on those nights, but he was always comforted by the fact that he knew Fred would be returning. George was used to having Fred in the next room, if not right next to him, and if not than at least he knew Fred would be back by morning, or sometimes in the middle of the night waking him up to tales of his night's shenanigans. Other times he would return to the room to find Fred peacefully sleeping like a baby. Fred would stir slightly at the sound of George coming home and either smile slightly and go back to sleep or sit up and talk to George until they both fell wasn't used to having a room all to himself, to come and go whenever he pleased. Not that Fred and George really stopped each other from coming in anyway. George had once walked casually into the bedroom where Fred was with Angelina, grabbed his wand, and walked out unfazed. Neither of them said anything about it. That's just the way they were. They were so comfortable with each other. It wasn't uncommon to find both twins in one bed, not in a weird way, but because they had been out the night before or tired from working on their joke products all night and they just crashed where they were.

The way George was living now was all wrong. He was not used to being by himself, always thinking about George and not the both of them. Tonight he had no one to fall asleep next to, no one to wait up for or be woken up by. Just him. George sighed and uncorked a sleeping potion. "Cheers, Fred" he said.

George was sleeping. Sleeping better than he had in a while...


End file.
